Hanging On
by Nocturness
Summary: Cecilia is a promising young musician, but when her father vanishes, she chooses to become a doctor so she can keep her dying mother alive. Her life takes a turn for the better when she meets Dr. CR-SO1. Will there be something between the two doctors?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, fellow reader! This my first fanfic on here, so I'm sorry if I'm doing something out of the norm. ^^ As you can see, this will be (or already is, depending on how far I am when you read this) an extremely long fanfic - about the length of novel, actually. I apologize again for any excruciatingly long chapters and unrealistic happenings and whatnot. My writing skills are still in their early stages of development.**

**Anyway, please R&R! Constructive criticism is be appreciated. If you have any suggestions for future story events or my writing style (or anything at all, in fact), PLEASE message me! Thank you! 3  
**

**Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a looooooooooooong time. o_o In truth, I'd already written almost 20 chapters of this fanfiction, but I hadn't really found much motivation to update it on here. I'd also written it all before Trauma Team was even released, so I was debating for a while between rewriting this fanfic, or just continuing from where I'd left off. (If the characters don't act the same way they do in the game, it's because I had to guess their personalities) For now, I've decided to continue updating this one, but if y'all prefer I restart it, then do tell. ^^ I'll be adding at least one chapter per week from now on, I promise. Again, my sincerest apologies!**

**Chapter 1**

"…And remember, first practice hands separately, and then start to play hands together, _slowly_. It's important not to jump ahead. And practice equally! Don't get really good at the beginning and barely be able to play the end." I nod my head obediently. My piano teacher, Mrs. Knoll, smiles kindly at me before closing my music binder and handing it to me. I take it from her, stuff it in my bag, and get up from the bench while she opens the door.

Just outside the room is my dad, sitting leisurely on a couch reading his favorite medical magazine. He immediately notices us come out and flashes us that toothy grin of his. I smile back. "Remember to practice!" Mrs. Knoll calls at us as we make our way to the door.

I nod and say, "Thank you!" before leaving the house and entering the freezing wintry nightmare just outside. The wind bites at my cheek and burns my eyes. I wrap my coat tighter around me and follow my dad to our car. We get in and start up the engine (and the heater) as quickly as possible.

"Want to grab some Starbucks on the way to The Music Gallery?" he asks cheerily over the loud rock music playing on the radio.

"Yeah!" I reply, and he takes a right turn instead of the usual left. We pull into the parking lot and run towards the safety of the coffee shop, laughing as we trip over the ice.

"Well if it isn't Ayden and Cecilia Navarre! Glad to see you guys!" the lady at the counter greets the moment she sees us enter. We are frequent customers here, so we've befriended many of the employees. "What would you guys like today?"

"Hey Mary! Two pumpkin spice lattes, please," my dad says, holding up two of his gloved fingers like a peace sign. Mary nods and starts making our coffee while dad and I sit down at a table near the counter. Every winter we always got pumpkin spice lattes, like how we bought iced cappuccinos in the summer and so on. Mary soon has our orders and slides them over to us. My dad takes out his wallet, pulls up a few dollars bills and hands them to her. "Keep the change." With a wink, he and I walk out and dash back to our snow-covered black Lexus.

While we are waiting at a red light, I hear the distant wail of an ambulance. "Hey, do you hear that?" I ask my dad, tapping my fingers against the glass. He tilts his head slightly up and pauses for a second, then nods.

"Yeah, I do. Where'd you reckon its going?" he asks, giving me a sly look. I put my finger on my lip in thought and am about to respond when the siren suddenly gets alarmingly loud. Before I know it, the ambulance shoots past us and goes directly through the red light. I stare at it, open-mouthed. My dad doesn't seem as surprised as I am.

"Hey! It's an ambulance from Resurgam First Care, the hospital where I work," he points out. "I'll bet Maria Torres is driving that with CR-SO1 in the back."

"They're still working during winter break? What do they do?"

"Maria Torres is one of our top paramedics and CR-SO1 is a surgical prodigy and an ex-convict."

"Wow… Resurgam has some cool staff," I sigh dreamily. I am just about to ask why CR-SO1 was in prison when we pull into the Music Gallery parking lot.

"Do you want me to come down with you?"

I shrug. "If you want to, then sure." We both get off the car and walk into the building.

"Hi Cecilia, Hi Ayden!" the lady sitting next to the door and the man behind the counter acknowledge in unison.

"Hey there Poppy, Kestrel," I greet back. Like Starbucks, we knew most of the employees at The Music Gallery, but this time it is because I work here part-time on the weekends.

"Watcha need?" Kestrel asks, his striking green eyes glittering. My heart seems to skip a beat as we make eye contact. I know it seems kind of silly for me to have a crush on a high school student while I was in my first year of college, but who cares? Kestrel is cute, nice, patient, and one of the best saxophone players in the state. What's not to love about him?

"Some harp strings, a silk flute swab cloth, and sheet music for a new Chopin piece. I think Mrs. Knoll ordered it for me." Kestrel nods and gets back to his own business. I stare at a rack of swab cloths for some time before I finally find the right type in one of my favorite colors (blue). I pick it out, quickly snatch the harp strings I need, and file through a cardboard box full of sheet music until I at last find the folder labeled _Navarre_. Inside is a thin book titled _Scherzo No. 1 Op. 30 by Frédéric Chopin_. We approach the counter and Kestrel glances up hopefully.

"Ready to checkout?" he asks. I nod and slip the items over to him. He quickly scans them, punches some numbers into the computer, and prints out a large yellow slip of paper and a receipt before handing those and my items back to me. "Thanks for coming to The Music Gallery!" he chimes, a playful sparkle in his eye. I blush slightly and smile my thanks before making my way to the door. Poppy waves good-bye just as we exit.

"I can finally get back home and hit the hay," Dad yawns, glancing up at the now-dark and moonlit sky. I giggle and get inside the car with him. The ride home is met with silence except for the radio blaring music. It wasn't an awkward silence, though – we both needed a break from the long day.

At last we stop inside the garage of our home. We both get out at the same time and enter the house. A dog immediately begins to bark.

"Quiet down, Nisa!" a familiar voice calls. The barking seizes for a moment but soon begins again. A large black lab dashes from the other side of the room towards us and leaps up, panting heavily. Mom shortly appears at the door where Nisa came from, her black hair tied back into a messy ponytail and her gray eyes tired.

"Welcome back," she says, her voice bright but hoarse. "How were piano lessons?"

"They were great," I reply. "But what are you doing out of bed, Mom? Didn't the doctor tell you to get at least 12 hours of sleep?"

Mom touches her face sheepishly. "Yeah, but I couldn't sleep. I just had to move," she sighs. Dad gathers her in a hug, whispers something into her ear, and brings her upstairs to their bedroom. I set down my book bag and head to my room where I turn on my laptop.

My mother was recently diagnosed with a just-discovered and incurable heart disease. She only has a few years remaining in this world, so we're trying to make the most of it while we still can. There are also a couple of restrictions, like the 12 hours of required sleep and the medication she has to take before breakfast every morning that sometimes give her horrible side effects, etc. etc. I try my best not to think about reality and the day she will pass away, but sometimes I just can't help it.

Shaking the thought away, I quickly check my e-mail and Facebook. When I finish those tasks, I thrum my fingers rhythmically against my desk, listening to music, not quite sure what to do. Then something suddenly strikes me.

I pull up Google and type "CR-SO1" into the search bar, since I hadn't been able to ask my dad about him earlier. I hit enter and billions of results pop up in less than a second. Without thinking, I click on the result at the very top of the page, bringing up an article titled _Trouble at Cumberland College_.

I go to bed that night with my mind whirling about what I had just learned after reading the online editorial. Apparently, CR-SO1 is the prisoner number of a young man who was accused of taking part in the well-known "Cumberland Incident," a biological terror attack several years ago at Cumberland College, the same school I'm currently attending. He suffers amnesia and no longer knows who he is, what he did, or why he did it. All he remembers is his vast knowledge of medicine and surgical skills. The government saw his honest grief over the deaths he may have caused and allowed him to work of his 250 years' worth of imprisonment off by performing complex surgeries at Resurgam First Care, the same hospital where my father works as a diagnostician.

All of these relations with a medical prodigy that I wasn't the least bit aware of until now made my head spin. I groan and flip over on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut, but it is long until I'm finally able to fall into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Merry Christmas Eve, Cici!"

I'm jolted awake by two loud voices screaming directly into my ear. Startled, I sit upright so fast that my head spins for a few seconds before I can recognize who the culprits are.

Standing right next to my bed, their big blue eyes dripping with innocence, are my younger brother and sister, Landon and Lark. They are twins, actually, and they're both only in kindergarten, which just makes it harder for me to get mad at them.

"Um… you, too," I reply drowsily. They exchange glances and giggle.

"I can't wait for tomorrow morning!" Lark chirps.

"I won't be able to sleep tonight!" Landon adds.

"Santa's gonna come with lots and lots of present!"

"But he's gonna give me more presents than you!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Cici!" Lark turns to me, her finger pointing accusingly at her twin brother. "Who's going to get more presents, me or Landon?"

I sigh heavily. "Both of you are going to get the same amount, kay? Now be good little children and go help mom or play outside or something."

"Okay!" they both chime in unison before running out of my room. I exhale and slide off my bed. Christmas Eve already? Time passes way too quickly. _What time is it, anyway?_ I turn my head to look at the clock hanging on the wall. My jaw drops in surprise. _1: 21 P.M.!?_

I throw off my pajamas, slip on a pair of jeans, a plain brown long sleeve, and my large pink slippers, tie my long black hair into a bun, and clamber down the stairs. Mom is in the kitchen making a large batch of her famous lemon cranberry cookies.

"Hi sweetie! Finally awake, huh? I kept your lunch warm in the microwave." She seems as tired as usual, but the way she holds herself makes her look young, beautiful, and bright. That's one of the best things about my mom that I envy the most – how she can be so perfect without even trying or realizing it.

"Thanks, Mom," I say, opening the microwave to find a big bowl of her "secret ingredient" alfredo pasta. Its heavenly smell immediately overcomes me. I take out the warm bowl, close the door with my elbow, and sit down at the table with a fork and a glass of milk. My mother's from an Italian family known for their cooking, so she always makes wonderful food.

"Do you want to help me make these cookies once you finish eating? I would've asked you before I started but you were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to wake you up."

"Sure," I reply after swallowing a mouthful of alfredo. It takes me a while, but I'm finally able to finish my meal, rinse my bowl and fork, put them in the dish washer, and dry my hands. "What do you need help with?"

"Read the ingredients and combine all the dry ingredients it says to combine." She points to the small index card lying by itself on the counter. I pick it up and walk around the kitchen collecting the things I need into a bowl, then grab a whisk and run it around inside a few times.

"Alright, now gradually add it to the creamed mixture in here," Mom instructs, gesturing to the electric mixer next to her. I tilt my bowl and shake it so the contents slowly spill into the ingredients inside the mixer.

"Where's Dad, by the way?" I ask casually.

"He's at work."

"Oh, right." I silently scold myself for being so dense. _Of course, today's a Monday! How could I have forgotten?_

"Alright, now we need to mix in the cranberries," Mom says, snapping me out of my trance. Then I realize I had added everything from my bowl into the mixture. _What's wrong with me today? I'm not usually this out of it._

"Will you take the bowl out of the mixer and grab a wooden spoon for me?"

"Yeah, sure." I un-attach the stand mixer and lift the bowl out, then open a drawer and grab a spoon. I hold out the bowl while my mom measures the cranberries and adds them to the mixture.

"Do you mind stirring those in for me? I really need a break. Once you're done, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. If I fall asleep, wake me up after two hours."

"Okay. Get some good rest," I say, struggling to pull the wooden spoon through the thick dough. Mom smiles and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"Remember not to overmix," she calls over her shoulder as she leaves for her room. I don't reply, but instead focus on tugging the spoon around.

When I'm finally finished, I rip out of large piece of plastic wrap, spread it over the top of the bowl, and place it in a cozy spot inside the refrigerator.

With that out of the way, I decide to go on the computer and continue writing the novel I'm currently working on. But as I stare at screen, nothing good comes to mind. So I just sit there, thinking, wondering.

--x--

"Why isn't Dad home yet?" I wonder aloud as I help set up the dinner table with Mom. Her expression is puzzled and worried.

"…I'm not sure. I've called his cell phone multiple times, but he never picks up. I hope he's okay. And it's Christmas Eve!" her eyes are wide and her voice is hollow, drained. I feel sorry for her, but I don't try to comfort her – I'm already drowned in my own anxiety.

"Should we call the police if he isn't home by tomorrow morning?"

Mom hesitates. "…Okay," she whispers. I gather her in a hug and then call Landon and Lark to the table.

Hours pass. Mom and I sit at the couch, watching TV. I feel sick. Dad still isn't home. It is 11:30 P.M. The Christmas programs airing are of no interest to me – all I can think about is Dad.

"I won't be able to sleep tonight, and it's not because of Santa," I breathe, my voice dry. Mom doesn't respond. I glance at her. Her face is pale, almost white, and her eyes are glazed and distant. I rub my sore eyes, feeling my eyelids going heavy.

_I'll just close my eyes for a minute, just to let them rest._ Before I know it, I drift into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I wake with a start to the sound of bawling. I open my eyes to find myself sitting on the couch in the same position as I was last night while waiting for Dad to come home. _Oh no! I fell asleep!_ I leap to my feet and then catch sight of Landon and Lark sitting next to the Christmas tree.

"Santa didn't come!" Lark wails.

"We were good this year! We were good, weren't we, Cici?" Landon cries. I rush over to them and pat them, trying my best to quiet them down. The area beneath the tree is empty. Butterflies flutter inside my stomach. _Is Dad home? Why are there no presents?_

I notice my mom slowly make her way down the stairs. She staggers and leans against the rail for support. There are bags under her eyes and her expression is solemn.

"…He's not home, is he?" I whisper. She shakes her head. I get up and head for the phone, leaving Landon and Lark still crying. Mom picks both of them up and takes them to their room as I dial 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" the lady on the other line asks.

"My dad's missing." My tone is monotonous and it is difficult for me to speak, but I force myself on. "He's been gone since last night. He never came home from work."

"We'll be there with investigators as soon as possible," the lady says.

"Okay. Thanks. Bye." I hang up.

Policemen are soon at our door. They ask us questions like "When did you last see him?" and "Where was he?", stuff like that. They agree to organize a search throughout town for him shortly after they leave. It takes my best effort to keep from crying right in front of those men, who seem so tough and calm. Just after they get in their cars and drive out of sight, tears begin to streak down my cheeks.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," I hiccup as I stagger to the couch and collapse on top of it. My mom sits down quietly next to me, lost for words.

Days pass. Our family has been falling apart, crumbling, withering with worries and nightmares. None of us have been able to sleep or eat or drink or do anything, not even Landon and Lark. I am outside on the driveway shoveling snow and ice. Usually it's my dad doing this job, but since he's gone and my mom's too sick to do any hard work, they've left the task up to me.

After two long hours of painstaking work, I finally clear the driveway of any form of precipitation. I go back inside, sweaty and freezing, and take a quick warm shower. When I come out, I wrap my wet hair in a towel, put on my favorite blue bathrobe and pink slippers, grab a cup of hot chocolate and my favorite book, and make my way to the huge beanie bag next to the fireplace. The family room is always much colder than the rest of the house since the construction men didn't install an air conditioning vent in there (for some strange reason), so I set my hot chocolate and book down and bend over to light the fireplace.

That's when I notice the smell.

Putrid. Disgusting. Undescribable. The smell made me nauseous. It was as if someone had stuck cottage cheese, cabbage, meat, fish, and milk inside a garbage bag and left it in a dark room for a week, and I had just taken a huge whiff of it. But even that probably wasn't close.

I stagger back as if someone had just punched me right in the face, wrinkling my nose in disgust. _What the hell is that?!_

"Mom?" I call. Her response is muffled but I continue anyway. "Can you come here? There's something weird."

A minute later, my mom enters the room. I beckon her to the fireplace and she approaches it. Her face suddenly screws up into something unreadable and she quickly backs away.

"What's that smell?" she hisses, holding her nostrils closed with two fingers. I shrug, an uncomfortable feeling stirring inside my stomach.

"Let's call the fire department and ask them to check out the chimney," I suggest. Mom nods and I pick up the phone.

The firemen arrive soon after. They break into the chimney and dive inside while Mom, Landon, Lark, and I watch curiously from the ground.

"It's probably a dead bird or squirrel or cat. They've got stuck in their a few times before and left a similar smell," Mom sighs.

"Hey! I've got something!" the fireman inside yells. His comrades nod at each other and begin working together pulling him up.

What they pull out is far bigger than any bird or squirrel.

"What the heck is that?" I exclaim. Mom's face is astonished. The firemen gingerly take the object, climb down the ladder, and lay it down on the pavement a few feet before us.

"Hold your noses, ladies," the man at the front warns. The smell hits us before he says that, though. It is the exact same smell as the one I had discovered in the family room.

Landon and Lark whimper and cling onto Mom and I. We exchange glances and slowly approach the object. When we stand directly before it, I suddenly recognize what it is.

My heart skips a beat. The hand not pinching my nose flies to my mouth in surprise.

"…Dad?"

His skin is dried and black. All black. Jet black. It seems so different, so weird on him, as compared to the fair-skinned being he used to be. His eyes are closed and shriveled and his mouth is open as if he is gasping in pain. He is dressed in a bright red Santa suit, which is now dusty and moldy. A sack stuffed with presents is slung over his shoulder. Even through my plugged nose, I can smell that horrible smell. The smell of death.

He'd tried to pretend to be Santa and enter our house through the chimney on the night of Christmas Eve to surprise us.

Tears well up in my eyes. They keep coming and coming, and I don't do anything to stop them. I cry so much that I'm forced to stop pinching my nose and am instead condemned to just covering my nose and mouth with both of my hands. Landon and Lark clutch my pants even harder and begin to sob, pressing their wet faces against the warm cloth. The firemen all take off their hats and stand in solemn silence, mourning my father's death.

But the person in the most pain out of the four of us is my mother.

"_NOOO!_" she wails, running forward to my dad's corpse. Two firemen jump forward and hold her back. She struggles from their grasp, but her sickness has weakened her so much she is unable to break free.

"Don't touch it! Just standing close like this will leave the smell on you for days," one of the men says. Mom struggles a little longer, but soon gives up and falls limp. The men let go and she crumples to the ground in a pitiful heap of sorrowful flesh and bone.

"This is a dream," she sputters, shaking on the ground. "This is all a dream. A terrible, terrible dream." The firefighters exchange sympathetic glances but say nothing.

So we stand there for the next few minutes, silently shivering in the cold. My tears keep coming, not willing to stop. I even see the firefighters begin to cry a little. Landon and Lark are on either side of me, each hugging a leg.

It's strange, how quickly and easily you can lose some. How everyone is simply and irrevocably irreplaceable. I suddenly realize that in that one, small moment. And in that one, small moment, I become a completely different girl than I was just moments ago.

My father's left this world. And on his way out, he took a huge chunk of my heart with him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"We're taking your dad to the Cumberland Institute of Forensic Medicine to perform an autopsy on him so we can determine the cause of death," one of the firemen says to us after our mourning as they load my father's corpse into their truck. I nod slowly, still shocked.

"How long do you think it'll take?" I whisper.

"Final reports usually take within a week or so, but the first findings are often ready in 2 or 3 days," he says, glancing back at the truck.

_Such a long time._ I sigh and duck my head. The fireman pats my hair gently.

"I'm sorry about your loss. Really. I know how you feel." He smiles sympathetically. "Well, I've got to go know now. There are more people waiting out there for me to save. See you! Good luck." He gives me a wink, dashes back to the fire truck, and climbs inside. We watch him and the other men drive off and then slowly shuffle back to our house.

I immediately make my way to my bedroom and close the door behind me. I go inside the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror, just staring at my reflection. My black hair is tangled and messy and there are large bags underneath my large gray eyes. The blue bathrobe I'm still dressed in is unruly. I exhale heavily, take it off, and collapse on top of my bed.

Everything that had happened in the past few days still haven't quite sunken in. Not even my father's death. I lay there, my cheek resting against the cool covers, waiting for that sudden moment of realization.

Nothing.

So instead of just waiting, I begin to think. I think about my family, my friends, Cumberland College, and music. Now that I think about it, I haven't practiced piano, flute, harp, or violin in a while. Not since the day my dad disappeared.

_Ugh, Dad again! Why is it always Dad, Dad, Dad?_ I groan in frustration and turn around so that my face is buried in my pillow. A mixture of emotions that I can't untangle boils inside my heart. But instead of letting out my anger, if it _is_ anger, I just keep still until my feelings burn itself down into nothing but a pile of emotional ashes.

_My family's falling apart. I can't let this happen._ I begin to feel the tears coming and bite my lip to stop them. _Come on, Cecilia! You've got to be stronger than this. You're going to bring everyone all back together and get everything under control._

And then I think about Mom and her heart disease. The disease that's slowly killing her from the inside out until one day, a few years from now, she'll be lying in her coffin, just like Dad. Dead. Gone. And Landon and Lark, not even graduated from elementary school, already orphans. Left with me to care for them, while I can't even manage to get a decent salary to support myself during the school year. Not with the musical career path I've chosen.

That explosion of realization suddenly comes. I bolt upright, my heart beating fast. In that one second, I abruptly realize what I would do. And in that one second, I wonder to myself exactly how sane my conscious is.

_I'm going to become a doctor!_

"…What?" Mom gives me a strange look after I tell her of my plans.

"I said I want to change my major from music to biology and then go to medical school, and make music my minor instead," I repeat exasperatedly. Mom shakes her head.

"I know what you said, honey. I just can't believe you're actually willing to do that."

I cock my head to the side, puzzled. "Why is that?"

"Music has been your greatest passion ever since you could walk. Ever since I gave you that keyboard for your first birthday. You would play on it all day, every day. Why are you all of a sudden interested in medicine now?"

"Because…" _Should I tell her the truth?_ "…I feel… as if I need to. I'm not going to let you die of that heart disease, Mom. Especially after… this."

Mom's eyes seem to glaze. "Oh," she breathes. I frown.

"Sorry." I get to my feet and begin to walk away.

"Wait."

I turn around. "Yeah?"

"So you expect to find a cure for me? After several other experienced professionals have attempted the same thing for the past year with all of their effort? By the time I'm going to die, you won't even be graduated from medical school."

I press my lips together into a firm line. "I'm going to find a cure for you, and you're going to live. You wait and see."

Mom's expression becomes sad. "…I'm not trying to discourage you, but it may be wasted effort, honey."

"No, it won't!" I can feel my voice steadily rising. "I'm not going to let you die!"

"Okay, fine, let's say you do find a cure. Then what? I'll just be a burden. I won't be able to work and you'll have one extra mouth to feed."

"It's not like that, Mom! Think about Landon and Lark! And once I get the cure, you'll recover until you can start working again. You'll be living the life you were before this stupid disease."

"No. It won't be nearly the same, not without..." Her voice becomes strangled. "Not without him."

I want to punch myself in the gut. _Why do I have to keep bringing him up? Especially around Mom!_ "…One day, we're going to move on. We'll still remember him, but we'll move on with our lives. And you're going to be there the whole time with us, even after you become a grandmother."

I don't wait for her to reply. I whip around and leave that room without another word.

Two days later, Mom and I are in the car on the way to the Cumberland Institute of Forensic Medicine. We get out and enter the rather large building. The lady at the information desk checks our information and tells us to wait for a bit. We both sit down in a chair and gaze out the window.

"Clarissa Navarre?" a lady calls a while later. Mom and I get up and follow the woman down a maze of halls before we finally stop in front of a door. Hanging on the door is a plaque with the name "Dr. Naomi Kimishima" engraved on it.

The woman knocks and a muffled voice from inside says, "Come in." She opens the door for us, smiles, and makes her way down the hall. Mom and I glance at each other and step inside.

Sitting at a desk facing the door is a beautiful and slender woman. Her hair is pale silver and tied back and she wears all black formal clothes. She glances up at us from her paperwork and grins.

"Hello. You two must be Clarissa and Cecilia Navarre, correct?" We both nod. She sets down the paper and leans forward on the desk. "…I'm sorry about Ayden. It was a very sad death he died." We don't say anything. She continues. "Anyway, I have the first findings from the autopsy and a very likely prediction of the cause of his death, but I still have yet to check his internal organs, just to make sure." My stomach twists into knots. "The spinal cord in his neck area is broken, so he could've tripped inside the chimney, broke his neck, and died instantly. There are also large scrapes and burns against his arms and back, which suggest him sliding violently against the brick."

"…Oh." That's all I can manage to choke out. Naomi smiles sadly. She opens her mouth to say something when someone knocks on the door.

"Come in," she calls.

There is a second of silence, and then the door suddenly bursts open. Standing behind it is a tall and lean man. He has unruly black hair and is wearing a blood-splattered white doctor's coat with strange white clothes beneath. But what catches my attention the most are his furious bright red eyes that look like two small balls of fire.

"What the hell, Naomi?" he barks, holding up a piece of paper. "This is the fifth time in a row you've forgotten to send the tissue from your latest autopsy to the histology lab!"

"Simmer down, there are two traumatized ladies sitting in front of you," Naomi sighs. "Clarissa, Cecilia, this is Dr. CR-SO1."

_Seareso-what?_ I blink in confusion and glance back at the strange doctor again. He returns my gaze and my heart seems to skip a beat. I find myself unable to break away.

It takes him a second, but he is able to cool down. "Welcome to the Cumberland Institute of Forensic Medicine. I'm Dr. CR-SO1, a surgeon at Resurgam First Care." _Oh, CR-SO1? What kind of a name is that? And why does it sound so familiar?_ He holds out his hand to my mom, who shakes it, and then to me.

I stare at it for a moment like I have some mental illness, then snap to my senses and loosely shake it. His grip is firm, so it feels as if his fingers are crushing mine. I sense my cheeks slowly get warm. _What's wrong with me?_

"Well, I guess that's it, then. You ladies should best be on your way. Let CR-SO1 take you back to the front," Naomi says, rising from her chair to stretch.

"What?" CR-SO1 snaps. "I need to get back to Resurgam as soon as possible! I don't have time to be an escort."

"Yes, you do. It'll just take a few minutes."

The two doctors glare at each other, mom and I standing in between them awkwardly. Finally, CR-SO1 gives in and brushes past me to place the paper on Naomi's desk. His touch feels like an electric shock on my arm.

"Alright, let's go," he sighs, leaving through the door.

"Thank you!" I call to Naomi before quickly following behind him. It doesn't take long for us to reach the front of the door.

"You ladies take care and drive safely," CR-SO1 says just as we are about to depart. "And I'm sorry about intruding in on your meeting with Dr. Kimishima."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Mom says. CR-SO1 smiles at us and turns around.

"See you guys," he calls behind his shoulder. I stare at him until he disappears down the hall, the reluctantly follow my mom outside.

On the car ride home, all I can think about is where I had heard CR-SO1's name before. It is on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't seem to grasp it.

We pass Cumberland College, and then I gasp.

_He was the surgeon accused of participating in the Cumberland Incident!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_If our lives can be compared with books,_

_Then Ayden's life was a poem._

_And like a poem,_

_Ayden's life has a message_

_as profound as 100 years could give._

_That is,_

_that each of us is irreplaceable,_

_irreplaceable._

_And that through Love_

_we must hold to one another_

_as the dew holds to the leaf_

_before the awesomeness of the rising sun_

_who day and day again_

_will transform us one and all._

I read that poem printed on the small slip of paper that was to be handed out to every guest at the funeral over and over again, engraving it inside my head. _It's so true._ I crumple the paper in my fist and keep it there, feeling the tears start to come. I let them drip down my face and onto my lap, but they don't leave any marks on my pure black dress.

Several people shuffle into the chapel in a steady flow, one by one. I sense them notice my family and I sitting at the very front aisle even though my back is turned to them. Their gazes seem to burn into my skin. I don't want all of this attention. I don't need their sympathy. I just want to get this funeral over with so I can move on with life already.

A man dressed in a black tux and tinted glasses plays the piano on the platform before us. The songs he plays are slow, sad laments. I lift my hand and wipe my face with the back of my wrist, but it just gets wet again as my tears travel down my cheeks.

After several more minutes, the funeral finally begins. The pastor stands at the podium and begins to speak, but his words blow right by my head. I can't concentrate – I can't even focus my eyes. My vision all becomes a blur as the tears blind my sight.

Before I know it, everyone has left and it is just me, my family, and the pastor standing in the cemetery, watching my father's casket gradually get lowered into the ground. No one speaks – we all just watch Dad's corpse get placed beneath the Earth's surface, where it will stay there until who-knows-when.

And then we are in the car on the way home. Again, no one says a word. We all look in different directions and drive in silence.

The rest of the day passes by like a blur, just like the funeral did. I don't eat. I can't sleep. All I can do is sit in my beanbag chair and stare at the fireplace, the same place I had noticed the scent that led to the discovery of my father's body, and think. I think about Dad and all the fun times we had together, how close we were, how much we cared for each other. I am still crying – I've been crying since the funeral. And then I think about my choice to become a doctor. Was I really going to find a cure for Mom before it was too late? Maybe I should volunteer at a hospital for a while to get some experience in the medical world. But which hospital?

The first name that comes to mind is Resurgam.

Resurgam. That wouldn't be a bad idea. It is the same hospital my dad had worked in, so several of the staff members should be able to recognize me. I slowly rise to my feet and make my way to my room, where I sit in front of my laptop and turn it on.

It's been so long since I've touched a computer. I wait for my desktop to appear, then open the internet browser and search "Resurgam." The first result that pops up is its website. I click on it, and then click on the "Volunteer" link. It brings up a list of benefits for volunteering at the hospital and links to programs. I click on the "College Student Volunteer Program." The page reloads with a few paragraphs of text and a link to the application form and the volunteer agreement. I click on the form and read through it.

The first part is basic information. I skip that and go down to the first question.

_What days and times are you able to volunteer? (please circle)_

I stare at it for a second, then shrug and go onto the next one.

_Please list your past and current volunteer experiences._

_Organization Name:_ I think for a second. I've volunteered at the Red Cross before during my high school years.

_Your position:_ My position? I don't know, a community preparedness worker?

_What did you like most about your volunteering experience?_ I hate questions like that. I skip it.

_What did you like the least?_ Skip.

_Other organizations to which you belong:_ Does The Music Gallery count?

_Check all statements that you believe apply to you. This information will help us find the kind of volunteer experience that might be of interest to you._

_I prefer to work alone._ No, not really.

_I prefer routine tasks._ Um… no?

_I prefer to do whatever is needed._ Yeah, definitely.

_I prefer to work in a group._ It depends. I guess not.

_I prefer an opportunity to get to meet and know other people._ Yeah, why not.

_I prefer to try new things._ I guess so.

_I prefer to work one-on-one with patients._ Yep.

_I prefer to work directly with a staff member._ My mind immediately goes to CR-SO1. I blink, confused at myself, but shake the thought away.

_I prefer to do office work._ …No. I sigh and go on.

_Why do you wish to volunteer at Resurgam and what do you hope to gain from your experience?_ At least I have a good list of answers for that. Too bad there are only two lines for me to write it all down.

_List the names of any friends or relatives who currently volunteer or work at Resurgam._ Ayden Navarre, except he passed away recently.

I groan and close the tab. Reading the form didn't really help me much. I decide to look through the Resurgam website to see what kinds of medical fields I might be interested in.

The first thing on the list that catches my eye is the word "cardiac." That's right, the reason I want to become a doctor in the first place is to help mom find a cure for her heart disease. But what about after that? Would I continue to work as a doctor or would I switch back to the musical career I've been chasing my whole life?

_Ugh, whatever. I'll decide on that when the time comes._ I print out the application form and volunteer agreement, then go downstairs to my mom.

She is curled up on the couch watching TV. I sit down beside her and watch with her for a little while before tentatively saying, "…Mom?"

"Yeah?" Telling from her voice, she seems fine. I continue.

"I'm going to start volunteering at Resurgam, just to let you know. I need some experience at a hospital if I want to become a doctor one day." I hold up the papers. She looks at them and takes them in her hands.

"…That's a good idea. When do you want to start?"

"As soon as possible."

"Alright. Just make sure not to fall behind on your studies."

"I won't. Thanks, Mom." I get up, peck her on the cheek, then go to my bedroom and sit down at my desk. I take out a pen and fill out the form. When I'm done, I take out an envelope, write down the address printed on the form, put the papers inside, then go outside and place it in the mailbox.

A feeling of accomplishment lifts my spirits as I quickly walk back inside my house. My father's death is already almost behind me. Almost.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"And here's your uniform." The lady hands me neatly folded light blue clothes. I take them and tuck them beneath my arm.

"We'll mail and e-mail you in a few days telling you what days, times, and areas you've been assigned to. Please arrive a little bit early on the day given, in your uniform and ready to go."

I nod. She smiles and pats my shoulder. "See you in a few, then."

"Bye! Thank you." I turn around, leave through the Resurgam First Care doors, and head towards my car in the parking lot.

Finally, the orientation was over! They had showed us around the building, how to do certain tasks, what to do when patients were in trouble, etc. I found it quite interesting, yet I couldn't help but secretly plead that it would soon be done. Not that I didn't want to be there, it was just… what's the word I'm looking for? Tedious? Not quite, but you get the point.

I turn up the engine and back out of my parking place. My mind is blank and at ease as I drive home. It's been such a long time since I've been like this – peaceful, calm, not pressured…

It is dusk, past dinnertime. I haven't eaten anything since lunch several hours ago. I decide to go a different direction than I usually do and stop by the nearest restaurant I pass.

After a minute or two of driving, I see a Quizno's. _Perfect. I'm just in the mood for a sandwich. _I pull into the parking lot and enter the quaint building.

"Can I have a medium cheddar roast beef sandwich?" I ask the lady at the counter. She nods and punches some numbers into the cash register.

"What kind of chips or soup would you like?"

"Sour cream and onion chips, please."

"To go or here?"

"To go."

"Alright, that'll be $8.24." I take a $10 bill out of my wallet and hand it to her. She opens her cash register, puts it inside, and then pulls out a dollar bill and some change. The lady then reaches beneath the counter and hands me an empty soft drink cup.

As they make my sandwich I head over to the soda fountain and fill my cup with ice and SoBe. I put a plastic cover and straw on top of it, then go back to the counter just as they take out the bread and place it in front of a bar filled with condiments.

"What would you like on your sandwich?" she asks me.

"Lettuce, tomatoes, olives, pickles, and mayonnaise, please."

She puts everything I had listed on there with ease, wraps my sandwich with parchment paper, and puts it, along with my chips and a few napkins, inside a plastic bag.

"Enjoy your sandwich," the lady says with a smile as she hands it to me. I smile back and thank her, then make my way outside.

I get inside my car, put my drink in the cup holder, and open my chips and sandwich. I make sure to put on my seatbelt and take a bite out of my sandwich as I turn on the engine.

The CD player begins to blare my favorite music. I turn up the volume and drive out onto the road.

After a moment, I slow to a stop at a red light. I take a sip of my soft drink and grab two chips. I tap my finger to the beat of the music, and then the light changes green. I slowly ease my foot on the pedal, making sure to keep a good distance between my car and the car in front of me.

And that's when it happens.

I crawl out onto the intersection. Everything is going as it should be going, when the car on the other road waiting in the stoplight suddenly zooms forward with a terrible squeal.

The car directly in front of me gets hit right in the driver's seat.

I gasp loudly and swerve my car sideways as I stomp on the brake. I hear screams and the squealing of wheels around me, but I ignore them as I fly out of my car and towards the totaled vehicle before me. The driver who had crashed into it stares, shocked, the airbag in front of him slowly going limp and unveiling his open-mouthed expression.

I reach through the window and feel for the person's body. When I finally touch something warm and sticky (which I presume may be blood), I kick away the door and try to heave the body out. It takes me a while, but I am finally able to get the person out of the vehicle and onto the ground.

The driver is a young and beautiful woman. She is straight black hair and a rather tall and slender bodice. Her left arm and shoulder is bloodied and broken, and her left leg seem out of position. I lay her down face-up on the road and shake her.

"Are you okay?" I yell, trying to get her awake. No reaction. "Are you okay?" I ask again. Still no reaction. I swing my head around, looking for some bystander, and then see the man who had crashed into the woman's car shakily get out.

I point at him and call, "You, in the green jacket! Call 911 immediately and get an ambulance here now!" Just as he nods and fumbles with his phone, I bend my ear over the lady's mouth and watch her chest for signs of breathing. Nothing.

I groan and struggle her jacket off, then grab her chin, pinch her nose, tilt her head back, and breathe twice into her mouth. I quickly wipe the blood off my face and bend over her abdomen before swiftly doing 30 chest compressions.

"One," I murmur to myself, then bend down and breathe twice into her mouth again. Just as I am getting ready to do another 30 chest compressions, the woman's eyes suddenly burst open.

I jump back in surprise. Her irises are a brilliant shade of blue – almost indigo.

And then she starts screeching in pain.

"Oh, what the hell!" she shrieks. "Where the fuck am I!"

I'm shocked for half a heartbeat by her trashy tongue. "Hey, calm down. You just got in a car wreck – just keep still. The ambulance will be here in a second." Just as I say that, I here the distant wail of a siren. My knotted stomach releases slightly in relief. "See? You can hear them already."

The woman's furious eyes look like blue fire, but she keeps still, cringing in pain. Pretty soon the ambulance gets here and two people jump out of it.

One of them is a rather tall and tan girl dressed in short shorts, a black tank top, a green and yellow jacket, and brown boots. The other person I recognize immediately.

"CR-SO1!" I breathe in astonishment, watching the pair sprint over to me and the injured lady.

"Hey there, Cecilia," CR-SO1 says, breathing heavily. The small smile in his expression wipes from his face when he notices me covered in blood, and then sees the lady.

"This is bad!" the tan paramedic shouts. "Stop chit-chatting and get back in there, CR-SO1! We don't have time for this."

CR-SO1 scowls at her, yet he doesn't say anything as he gets up. He is about to leave when he suddenly turns over and grabs my hand. "Come on, we have to hurry!"

"W-Wait, I'm coming?" I exclaim as I stumble clumsily after him. "But what about my car?"

"The police will take care of it!" CR-SO1 shouts behind his back. I don't complain and quickly crawl into the back of the ambulance after him. The tan paramedic starts driving the second we close the doors.

"…Is she going to be okay?" I ask quietly while we sit (CR-SO1 standing, actually) on either side of the lady, who seems to have passed out while she was being carried inside the ambulance.

"Yeah, of course," CR-SO1 replies, somewhat breathless. He glances at me with those burning red eyes of his. "Did you do CPR on her?"

"Yes, she was knocked out and not breathing, but in the middle of my second round she suddenly came to," I say.

"I see. Good job." He pauses. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," I slur, beginning to feel rather dizzy from the constant swerving of the ambulance. "I think I should call my mom – me added onto the list of things for her to worry about won't do her any good."

"Okay, but I think you should wait until we get off."

I nod obediently. Before I know it, the ambulance comes to a sudden stop and the tan paramedic flings the doors open.

"Get her out and into the O.R., quick!" she commands rashly, taking one end of the gurney the injured lady was lying down on. CR-SO1 takes the other side without a word and eases out of the ambulance with her.

"Follow us!" he says as he and the paramedic start running inside. I dash after them, ignoring the stares other people give us.

The moment we make it into the building, the receptionist picks up the phone, punches in a few numbers, and speaks quickly into the receiver. As we run down the halls a group of people join us. We soon reach an operating room, but just as I am about to go inside, one of the men blocks my path.

"Sorry, but you're not allowed inside. Just wait out here." He slams the door in my face.

_Well, that's rude of him._ I mumble under my breath as I walk over to a bench and collapse on it, exhausted. _Now that I have the chance, I guess I should call Mom._

I take my phone out of my pocket and dial my home number. It rings just once before someone picks up.

"Cecilia! Where in the world have you been? I was worried sick!" Mom shouts. I flinch and back the receiver a few inches away from my ear.

"Calm down, Mom. I'm at the hospital right now – Resurgam, to be exact."

"_Still?_ Why would you stay there this long? I thought they said the orientation would only last until 7:00 P.M.!"

"No, no, it was over a while ago. I left, got some dinner, and while I was driving some people in front of me got in a wreck, so I got out of my car and helped them. Right now the lady's in the O.R., and I'm in the waiting room."

"Oh… are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up."

"Okay, I'm going to come there right now. What room number?"

"I'm not sure. Let me check. Hold on." I get up and poke my head out of the door, then retreat back to my bench and put the phone next to my ear again. "Room 833. And bring a change of clothes for me while you're at it."

"Alright, honey. See you soon." The line goes dead. I put away my phone and slouch against the wall. I feel my eyelids go heavy and begin to droop.

_A little nap can't hurt, I suppose._ I sigh, feeling my conscious slowly slipping away. Before I know it, I'm caught in a deep sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Cici…?"

"Why is she covered in blood, Mom?"

I blink awake and shift on the bench with a groan. Landon and Lark gasp and jump back.

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" Mom asks, a hint of worry in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. I guess I fell asleep while I was waiting for you guys," I mutter, half-awake. Mom smiles and scoffs at the same time as she takes my hand and helps me off the bench.

"Let's get this blood off of you first. You look like a mess."

"But how? We don't know where any of the showers are or anything."

"So we're going to ask. Come on." Mom starts walking out of the waiting room. I hesitate.

"Then what about the lady in there?" I gesture towards the O.R. "I want to know if she's going to be okay."

Mom huffs in frustration. "We'll find out when they finish, alright? Now hurry up and follow me." I frown but trail after her without asking anymore questions. Landon and Lark follow right at my heels.  
We go to the receptionist's desk. She looks up a few things on her computer and then directs us to a room on the patient floors of the hospital. We thank her and quickly continue our way.

After a long moment of walking, we finally make it to the bathroom. Mom places the bundle of folded fresh clothes into my hands.

"Don't take long. We'll be waiting outside," she says. I step into the bathroom and gently close and lock the door behind me.

_I don't want to take long, anyway. I want to know if that lady is going to survive!_ My mind is a whirl of confusion and irritation. I rip off my ruined and bloodied clothes, step inside the shower, and turn on the hot water.

The warmth runs down my back and arms and hair, and I am almost immediately calmed down. I sigh and close my eyes, gently tilting my head up towards the running water. I nearly forget about the world and reality around me, but when I notice the clear red liquid swirling across the shower floor, I am suddenly reminded of it again.

_Ugh, I'd better hurry up._ I wait for the water running down my body to turn clear again, then turn off the shower and wrap a towel around me. I quickly dry myself and my hair and throw on the clothes my mom had brought me, which consist of some clean underwear, a pair of dark colored sweats, a plain yellow tee, and a red Cumberland hoodie. When I am done, I return everything where it had been before, throw my towels into the "used" basket, and run out into the hall.

Mom, Landon, and Lark are sitting on the bench placed just next to the door. All of their heads perk up at the same time when they hear me emerge from the bathroom.

"Come on, let's get back to the waiting room," I urge impatiently. Mom rises from her seat, beckons Landon and Lark up, and follows me back to where we had been moments before.

The doctors are still in the middle of their operation when we get back. I groan and crumple onto the bench. Mom gives me a quizzical look.

"Why are you so worried about a stranger? You barely know her!"

"Yeah, but she's in danger! She's hurt! She could die! What if she has family waiting for her back home, worried sick?" Just as I say that, three adults burst through the waiting room door.

"Is Elodie in there?" one of the men demands fiercely. He is tall and skinny with straight dark hair covering some of his face.

"Calm down, Victor." Another man places his hand on Victor's shoulder. He has brown hair and wears glasses, and appears to be younger (and much calmer) than his fiery-tempered friend. "If it's true that she's in Dr. CR-SO1's hands right now, then she's bound to survive the accident, no matter how severe the damage is."

"I won't calm down, Derek Stiles!" Victor snaps back. "If Elodie doesn't survive this, what am I supposed to do without an assistant?"

"Victor, you've worked without an assistant for almost your whole career until just recently." This time it is the woman speaking. She is pretty with blonde hair and green eyes.

"You shut your fucking trap, Angie! This has nothing to do with you."

Angie's eyes light up furiously. "It so has a lot to do with me! And you don't talk to me like that!"

"Guys, guys! Break it up!" Derek cuts in, waving his hand between the arguing pair. Victor and Angie glare at each other before turning towards the O.R.

Mom, Landon, Lark, and I all stand there watching awkwardly, not sure whether to feel amused or frightened.

"I-I'm sorry you had to watch that," Angie apologizes sincerely. She takes a step forward and holds her hand out to me. "I'm Nurse Angie Stiles from Caduceus USA, Derek's assistant and wife."

"And I'm Dr. Derek Stiles, a surgeon at Caduceus USA." I shake his hand as well. Derek glances back at Victor, who is standing behind him with his arms crossed and a glowering expression on his face.

"This is Dr. Victor Niguel, a researcher from Caduceus USA. Sorry about his temper today, he's not usually like this."

Angie snorts and rolls her eyes. "Stop lying, Derek. He's _always_ like this."

"Yeah, well." Derek blinks at us apologetically. "Sorry you have to see all of it."

"Hey, don't apologize for me!" Victor snaps. "I'm not a fucking child! And I can introduce myself, thank you very much."

"Oh, _sorry_," Angie sneers.

Derek smiles amusedly. "He may look like a total pain in the butt at first, but he's really a genius. He can create cures for seemingly impossible diseases in days."

This catches my attention. _Create cures in days? Then does that mean he can…?_

The O.R. doors suddenly burst open. We all turn towards it at the same time to see CR-SO1 walking towards us.

"I see we have more visitors," he observes, scanning his red eyes over the crowd.

"Dr. CR-SO1! It's an honor to finally be able to meet you," Derek exclaims as he shoulders his way to the front. Angie follows close behind.

"Oh, you must be the famed Dr. Stiles, savior of countless GUILT patients and even more," CR-SO1 muses as they shake hands.

"Dr. CR-SO1, I'm Nurse Stiles, Dr. Stiles' assistant," Angie greets. CR-SO1 nods respectively at her and shakes her hand as well. He then turns to my mom and me.

"It's nice to see you two again, Clarissa and Cecilia." His eyes catch Landon and Lark. "And are these your other two children?"

"Yes, their names are Landon and Lark. They're both twins."

"You have very beautiful children, Mrs. Navarre," CR-SO1 comments. My cheeks go red. "Might your husband be… Ayden Navarre?"

Mom ducks her head as she is reminded of my father. I glance at her sympathetically and say, "Yes, yes he is."

"Oh… I'm sorry about your loss." He and Victor greet each other, and then I am finally able to ask the question I've been longing to ask all this time.

"I-Is… she all right?" I inquire hesitantly as I gesture towards the O.R., now suddenly fearful of the answer. CR-SO1 turns to me and I feel myself catch my breath.

"Yeah, of course she's fine. I anticipate a quick recover." He glances at the clock hanging on the wall. "I need to get going now – gotta finish my rounds. Stay well!"

We all bid CR-SO1 farewell as we watch him leave through the waiting room doors. Derek, Angie, and Victor exchange a few words with each other and walk into the O.R. Mom is just about to follow them when I grab her by the arm.

"Wait, we're not allowed inside," I warn.

"Why not? How come they can go in, then?" She jabs her thumb at the group of three.

"…I don't know, cause they're all doctors? I tried going inside before the operation and one of the men said I couldn't enter."

"Oh… okay. Are you going to come back tomorrow?"

"Yeah, definitely. As early in the morning as I can."

"Mommy, can we go to bed now?" Lark yawns, tugging at my mom's pants.

"Yeah, we're really sleepy and tired." Landon rubs his eyes.

"Alright, we're going back home right now, sweeties," Mom coos, taking my twin siblings by their hands and leading them outside. I glance one last time at the O.R. before shuffling after them.

_I wonder if that woman's name is Elodie. I hope we can become friends._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I burst inside the patient's room early in the morning to see the lady lying down in her bed while reading a science magazine. Her blue eyes look up when she hears me enter.

"Um… hi. Do I know you?" she asks cautiously, giving me the once-over.

"Oh, I'm Cecilia Navarre," I introduce.

"She's the one who saved you from the car accident."

I whip around, surprised, to find CR-SO1 standing directly behind me. He looks down at me with a sly smile.

"You saved me?" the lady gasps, immediately sitting up. I hesitate before slowly nodding my head.

"Well, it wasn't really me. I just pulled you out of your car and got you breathing again, but you should mostly thank CR- –."

"Thank you so much, Cecilia!" she cuts in. "My name's Elodie, Elodie Laurent. I'm an assistant researcher at Caduceus USA."

It takes me a moment to process all of this. "Um… you're welcome?" is all I can manage is say. CR-SO1 gives me a light nudge and I stumble forward to the side of Elodie's bed. He walks in briskly and exchanges a few words with a nearby nurse.

"What's your name?" Elodie asks, sincere curiosity shining in her bright blue eyes.

"Uh-um… Cecilia Navarre."

"Hey, no need to be so nervous," she giggles, beckoning for me to sit down. "I don't bite. I just want to know a little more about my savior. So, tell me about yourself, if you don't mind."

I pull up a chair and take a seat next to Elodie's bed. "Well… I'm 19 years old and a student at Cumberland College. I currently major in music, but I'm planning on switching to biology so I can join med school and become a doctor."

"Oh, what instrument do you play? And why are you interested in medicine all of a sudden?"

"Well, I play, um… I _specialize_ in flute and piano. And I wanted to change because, well…" I trail off and glance at CR-SO1. He is reading over some charts and then looks up at me. I quickly avert my gaze. _Awkward._

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to talk about it," Elodie says softly. I shake my head.

"No, no, it's fine. I don't mind. Anyway, I want to be a doctor now because…" I hesitate, but I don't know why. Should I tell her? What harm was there to talk about it? I needed to let this out anyway, after hiding it inside me for this long.

I find myself spilling everything out.

"My father's not around anymore. His name was Ayden, and he was a diagnostician here at Resurgam. He'd died recently because…" My voice begins to get shaky. I pause for a second, gaining back my control, and continue, "Because of… Anyway, my mother, Clarissa, has an incurable heart disease, and she only has a few years left to live in this world. I have two younger twin siblings – Landon and Lark – and they're only in kindergarten. When my mom dies, I'll be the one taking care of them, and I can barely make enough money right now to support myself. So I can't allow her to pass away so soon and young. I'm going to become a doctor and create a cure for her disease so she can live."

Elodie doesn't say anything at first. I soon realize the whole room is silent, and I notice all of the nurses and CR-SO1 staring at me with unreadable expressions. Had they been listening to me this whole time?

"…I'm sorry about that, Cecilia," Elodie stammers, smiling weakly at me. "Hey, I know someone who'll be able to really help you find a cure for your mom."

I straighten, immediately interested. "Who?"

Her grin widens. "His name's Dr. Victor Niguel. He's the Head of Research and Development for Caduceus USA. He's a real genius. You should go talk to him sometime."

"Oh, Victor? I met him outside the O.R. in the waiting room during your surgery. He was visiting you with Dr. Stiles and Nurse Stiles." I remember his rash attitude and try not to shudder.

"Did you?" Elodie's voice suddenly goes distant. I give her a puzzled look, but she doesn't seem to notice. "What was he like?"

"Um, he was really loud… and rash…and kind of freaking out…"

Elodie raises an eyebrow. I can see the hint of a wide smile in her expression that she seems to be trying to hold back. "Is that so," she murmurs.

I am slightly confused at her strange behavior, but don't make any comment. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm doing fine. Dr. CR-SO1 did a really fine job of putting me back together," she chuckles. CR-SO1 glances at us and smirks.

"No surprise there," I say sarcastically. Elodie giggles.

I glance at the clock and notice the time. I am reluctant to leave, but I know I need to get back home to babysit Landon and Lark so Mom can go to an appointment with her doctor. "Well, I need to get going now." I place my hand on Elodie's and smile at her. "I hope you get well soon and have a safe recovery."

"Oh, already?" she sighs disappointedly. "Okay then. Thank you for saving me and visiting. You're a good person, you know. Bye! See you soon, hopefully." I blush at her compliments, nod, and leave through the door.

My mind is blank as I drive down the road. I try to think about things, but I can't bring myself to, which is pretty unusual for me. I return home in what seems like seconds.

Our cat, Skittles, and Nisa greet me when I step through the front door. Skittles rubs her body against my ankles and purrs loudly. I bend over, scratch her ear a little, pat Nisa over the head, and then set my bag down before calling, "Mom?"

No response. My heart beats slightly faster. I run upstairs to the first place I can think of – her bedroom.

I find her lying down on the king-sized bed, her back facing me and blankets wrapped tightly around her body. I slowly approach her and kneel down next to her side. Her skin is warm and flushed.

"Are you feeling okay?" I whisper worriedly. She opens her eyes. They are red, tired, and glazed.

"You're home." Her voice is cracked and hoarse. I frown.

"What's wrong? Since when were you sick?"

"I-I don't know… when I woke up I was like this. But right now I'm a little worse than I was before," she croaks.

"You don't plan on going to that doctor's appointment, do you?"

"No, I guess not. We'll have to move it to another time."

"I'll go call them right now. Do you have any idea what you might have?"

"…Probably just a cold or the flu. It's nothing big, don't worry."

"Have you checked your temperature?"

"No."

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

"Some warm water would be nice."

_If Dad were here, he would be able to immediately figure out what you have._ I dare not say that out loud as I get to my feet and walk towards the phone.

After I make the call to Resurgam, delaying the appointment to five days later, I warm up some water in the coffee maker and fish out the thermometer in our medicine cabinet. I wait a few minutes for the water to start boiling, then take out the pot, pour a cup of warm water, and run back upstairs.

"Here you go. It's really hot, so you should wait a little while," I warn while setting down the cup on the nightstand next to Mom's bed. She smiles.

"Let me take your temperature," I say, holding up the thermometer. She opens her mouth and I stick it under her tongue. When it beeps, I take it out and look at the reader. My heart skips a beat.

"104 degrees? Are you sure you're okay, Mom?" I ask exasperatedly. Her forward wrinkles in a frown.

"I've never had that high of a fever before," she replies nasally.

"What are your symptoms? Maybe I can look them up in… um… the office." I don't risk mentioning my father.

"Okay, well, high fever, obviously… a pretty bad headache, runny nose, sore throat, dry coughs, and lots of aches."

"Alright, I'll be back soon." I repeat the list of symptoms over and over in my head as I jog downstairs and enter Dad's old home office.

No one's been inside since he'd disappeared. I feel thoroughly creeped out as I wander around for a second, then bend down next to a shelf overstuffed with books and pick out one titled "Symptoms and Cures." I flip it open and look up every one of my mom's symptoms.

They all point to the flu.

I skim through the treatment section, then close the book loudly and place it back in its spot on the shelf. _You're pretty good at this, huh?_ I muse to myself as I wash the thermometer, place it back in the medicine cabinet, grab a box of Kleenex, and run back upstairs.

"Mom?" I ask quietly, entering her dimly-lit bedroom again. She replies with a muffled groan. "I brought you some tissues. And you probably have the flu – all of your symptoms are flu symptoms." I place the box on the edge of the nightstand closest to her. She lifts her hand and grabs a few, then blows her nose into each one of them.

"Thanks, Honey. I really appreciate it," she sniffs. I smile and kiss her lightly on the cheek.

"Get well soon, Mom. I'll be back every 15 minutes or so to check up on you," I whisper before getting up and gently closing the door behind me. My stomach stirs uncomfortably; this wasn't "just a flu." In Mom's case, even the flu could be deadly. It could very well turn to pneumonia, in the current condition she was in. _I'll have to be careful._

I decide to go find Landon and Lark. I walk to their bedroom and see Landon on the computer playing a game and Lark sitting on the floor, messing with her dollhouse. They hear me enter and look up at the same time.

"You're finally back!" Lark chirps, scrambling to her feet and hugging me tightly.

"Hi Cici," Landon greets casually, too absorbed with his video game to get distracted.

"Where were you? You were gone when we woke up!" Lark tugs at my pants. I smile down at her and pat her hair.

"I was at the hospital visiting a patient. Did you guys listen to Mom while I was gone?"

"Mom hasn't been out of bed since breakfast. I don't think she's feeling too well," Lark whines. "Is she okay, Cici?"

I hesitate. "…She's sick, but she'll get better, I promise." I grin at them, but it is small and broken. They don't seem to notice, though.

Lark smiles and gives me another hug before returning to her dollhouse. "Are you two hungry?" I ask.

"Nope, I'm fine," Lark replies. She glances at her twin brother. "I don't know about Landon though. He's too busy with his game." Landon doesn't reply. I giggle and go to my own room, where I sit down in front of my computer and open it.

I open my inbox to find several new e-mails. There's only one that really catches my eye, though. I click on the e-mail sent from Resurgam First Care and skim through the entire message. Then I double back and read it more carefully. A wide grin spreads across my face.

I am to begin volunteering at Resurgam two weeks from now, under the direction of Dr. CR-SO1.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Thanks, Honey. You're a good daughter." I smile at my mother lying down on the couch, watching TV. After three days she is still sick, but it isn't nearly as bad as it was before. At least she is recovering. She picks off a piece of the pancakes I made for her with her fork and chews it slowly. I watch her eat for a second, then get up with a sigh and move towards the door.

"You should move around some today – lying in bed all the time won't do you any good," I suggest just as I leave the room.

_Nothing to do. Ho-hum._ I wander around for a little, sit in front of my harp and pluck a few strings to the beginning of one of my favorite songs, then get up again and head to my bedroom. _Wow, you haven't been this idle for a while._ I spin around in my rolling chair, my head tilted back so that I'm watching the ceiling circle around above me.

"I wonder how Elodie is doing right now," I think aloud as I slow to a stop. "Has she been discharged?"

And just when I say that, the doorbell rings. I leap from my chair, race down the stairs, and open the door. Standing in front of me is the person I would've least expected.

"Hey Cecilia. How are you?" Blue eyes gaze down at my warmly.

"Elodie! They've released you from the hospital?" I gasp. She nods and grins.

"Mind if I come inside? I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything – I just wanted to visit."

"No, of course I don't mind. Come on in, make yourself at home." I step aside and she enters, gazing around curiously with a bright spark in her eyes.

"You have a very… decorated interior," she observes. Her eyes come to a stop on the open doors to the music room, where there is a clear view of my harp and grand piano.

"Wow! That's so cool!" She goes inside and circles around my harp, then sits down at the piano bench and runs her fingers along the keys.

"Um… thanks," I stammer, not quite sure what to do. Elodie looks at me, and then notices the violin and flute case sitting in the corner.

"…Dang, woman. How do you have all this time on your hands to practice this much stuff?" she breathes, giving me a wicked smile. I scoff.

"I-It's nothing." I can feel my cheeks slightly get warmer. She gets to her feet and looks at me expectantly.

"Uh, want to go upstairs?" I ask tentatively. She nods and follows me up the steps.

"Do we have a guest?" Mom asks croakily, trying her best to twist her neck to get a better view of us.

"Yeah, this is Elodie Laurent, the girl from the car crash," I introduce. "Elodie, this is my mom, Clarissa Navarre."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Navarre," Elodie chirps. Mom smiles weakly.

"You too, Elodie. I've heard very nice things about you."

"Oh, you're too kind." Elodie smiles. I take her hand and drag her to my bedroom, feeling extremely awkward about the way-too-formal conversation between the two of them.

"Sweet room you got," she whistles, plopping down on my mattress.

"Thanks," I say, sitting in the rolling chair I'd been on moments ago.

"Is your mom sick?" Elodie asks worriedly.

"Yeah, she came down with the flu a few days ago. Right when I got home from visiting you, actually."

"Is that so…" she trails off, then snaps back to her senses and asks, "So how've you been since the last time I've seen you?"

"Fine, bored, nothing to do," I reply nonchalantly. "You?"

"Recovery and insurance has been difficult, but everything's going pretty good other than that."

There's a second of awkward silence between the two of us.

"So you work at Caduceus USA?"

"Yep." This topic seems to catch her attention.

"Wow, that must be pretty amazing. What were you doing here?"

"We were supposed to be speakers at a conference held in Resurgam, but our speeches were cancelled once the staff found out about the accident."

"That sucks. All that hard work for nothing, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Elodie sighs distantly. "So do you plan on working at Resurgam in your path to become a medical doctor?" Her voice is teasing. I laugh lightly.

"I'm just volunteering for now. I'm supposed to start in two weeks, under Dr. CR-SO1."

"CR-SO1, huh? You're pretty damn lucky."

"Yeah, he's a really experienced surgeon. I can't wait to learn from him."

"I didn't mean it that way."

I give her a puzzled look. "Huh?"

Elodie grins mischievously at me. "What do you mean 'huh'?"

"I-I… seriously have no idea what you're talking about."

She laughs. "You don't? Really, Cecilia? I thought you had a better eye than that."

I give her a baffled expression. She throws her arms up in the air exasperatedly.

"CR-SO1's _hot_, Cecilia. He's not only a surgical genius, but he's _smoking_ as well. I'd bet every nurse at Resurgam swoons over him every time they're even in the same room."

My face becomes beet red. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I really have no idea what to say. Elodie chuckles.

"It's okay, Cecilia. No need to be shy – I completely understand." She gives me a wink. "But you are going to have some _fun_ in your volunteering experience."

"_Elodie!_ It's nothing like that!" I gasp, much louder than expected. Elodie rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You say that now, but in time, you'll see what I mean. You will see." She says that last sentence slowly and ominously. I glare at her and she sticks her tongue out.

"Well, I'd better get going now. See you around, hopefully." She gets up and heads for the door.

"Wait!" I get to my feet as well. She turns around.

"Yeah?"

"Uh-um… are you going back to Caduceus?"

Elodie grins. "No, I've decided to stick around Resurgam for a while, just to see how things go along, if you know what I mean." She waves me good-bye, and before I know it she is gone.

I huff in frustration and embarrassment and sit down heavily in my chair, crossing my arms across my chest. I can't help but be relieved that Elodie isn't going to be gone forever, though, after such short notice. My heart still beats fast and the warmth on my face lingers as I stare at the floor and think about what Elodie had just said. I'd never really noticed CR-SO1's face. Was it really as good as she had described it? All I'd seen were his red eyes… I shake my head and groan. My next meeting with him was going to be awkward – I can just tell.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Cecilia Navarre?"

I lift my head upon hearing my name and notice the nurse standing near the entrance to the main part of the hospital. She smiles at me as I get up and follow her down several halls.

We finally come to a stop in front of a tall door. "Here's Dr. CR-SO1's office. Good luck, and don't feel bad if you make a mistake – everyone's done at least one thing wrong on their first day." I nod, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach and the weakness of my legs as she knocks and opens the door.

Sitting at his desk is CR-SO1, his red eyes tired and his dark hair as unkempt as ever. He is leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, tapping his pencil against his cheek as if in deep thought. His gaze flickers to us when we enter the room. The nurse gives me a firm nod, gently pats me on the back, and leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.

I stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. CR-SO1 closes his eyes. "Welcome to Resurgam."

"Uh-um… thank you." It takes a ton of effort for me to keep my voice steady. He gestures to one of the chairs near his desk.

"Take a seat." I walk over and sit down obediently. "So you're familiar with things around here, yes?"

"Well… not quite familiar, but I know how stuff goes," I reply softly. He nods and sits straight.

"Then let's get to business. Help me fill out some paperwork here." He takes a pen and a stack of papers, then places them in front of me. I pick up the pen and look through the first page.

"…Wow." That's all I can say. CR-SO1 smirks.

"You'll get used to it in no time. And once we finish all of this, there won't be any for the next two or three days."

_Two or three days._ "I never imagined doctors had to fill so many papers," I mutter as I start filling out the form.

"You think people can just ask to have an operation?" he muses.

"No, of course not! It's just… so many…"

He laughs. "Yes, well, many people want me to operate on them, though I have no idea why they'd want some ex-convict like me."

I gasp in astonishment. "Of course they'd want you!" _What the hell are you saying?_ CR-SO1 looks at me, surprised. "Uh, I mean, you're like a surgical prodigy, aren't you? No one wants a surgeon who could accidentally kill them, and you haven't killed anyone yet."

"Lots of surgeons haven't failed an operation yet," CR-SO1 says, his voice softer now. "And I _could_ kill them. I probably have in the past, on purpose."

"…What?" I stare at him disbelievingly. He shakes his head.

"It's nothing. Do you need help filling that out?"

"Oh, uh," I glance down at my papers. Most of them ask for addresses, contact information, etc. "Yes, please."

"Okay. Can I see that?" I hand him the top paper. He takes it and fills in all of the blanks.

"Here, use that for the other forms." I take the paper back and study it for a second.

"Thanks." I set it aside and begin writing on the other pages. He nods and continues working on his own.

A few minutes of silence pass by, the only evident sound being the scratching of pens. Elodie's words from several days ago suddenly come back to mind. I glance up at CR-SO1, but his head is ducked and resting against one of his hands, hiding his face.

I look back down, feeling disappointment for some reason. More time passes by when I suddenly hear CR-SO1 set down his pen. I glance up curiously.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry?" he asks, staring directly into my eyes. I can't look away. At first, I can't say anything, but I eventually snap to my senses.

"Uh, no, I'm fine," I stammer, tearing away from his gaze.

"Okay. Just tell me if you need anything," he says before picking up his pen again and writing.

I sigh silently and pull my knees up to my chest so my chin rests on them. I get about halfway through the stack of papers when I begin to feel extremely drowsy. _Don't fall asleep now! How embarrassing would that be?_ I force my heavy eyelids open and continue scribbling down words. My blinks get slower and slower, and it gets harder by the second to open them again. Before I know it, I am fast asleep.

I wake up slowly, my entire body sore. My surroundings are unfamiliar. I attempt to get up before realizing I was curled up on top of a chair. And then I realize with a start where I am.

_I fell asleep? Ugh!_ I rise to my feet and something falls to the ground. It is thin and white but warm. I pick it up gingerly and observe it. It looks like a large doctor's coat.

Had CR-S01 draped his coat around me? A strange feeling stirs inside me. I glance over at his desk to find it empty. All of the papers are filled out and set neatly in a huge pile near a corner of the table.

I can't imagine CR-S01 being so… hospitable. But he is a doctor, after all. I shake my head in confusion. _Where'd he go? Maybe he left a note behind._ I lean down over his desk and find a slip of paper lying face up right in front of my chair. I pick it up and read it.

_Left for an emergency operation. Be back soon._

I read the neatly-written words over and over again, not quite able to process them for some reason. _So do I just stay here until he comes back?_ I fold the paper up and stuff it down my pocket. For some reason, I wanted to treasure it. Why? I have no clue.

I wander over to one of the bookshelves and pick out a random book. It is titled "Medical Fundamentals and Basics." I sit back down in my chair and begin to read.

Several minutes pass when the door suddenly opens. My heart jumps in surprise as CR-S01 walks inside, swiftly closing the door behind him.

"Oh, you're awake," he says steadily. I nod.

"…How did the operation go?"

"Pretty good. It was complicated, though. Too bad I'd already worked off my sentence. Now I'm being paid with money, which I don't really have any use for." He sits behind his desk and leans back with a sigh.

I don't know how to reply to that. It is uncanny for me to talk about that kind of stuff since I'm afraid it bothers him, but he seems perfectly fine with it.

"…Sorry I couldn't get much work done today," I apologize quietly. He looks at me with those red eyes.

"Huh? No, it's fine." I can't help but smile shyly. "You're only volunteering, after all. We can't push you to do _too_ much work."

"Right," I laugh. An uncomfortable feeling stirs inside my stomach and I visibly cringe.

CR-S01 gives me a strange look. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply groggily. He furrows his brow.

"I don't think so. Maybe you should go home today."

"No, really, I'm fine."

"You're dismissed. I don't need any more work done around here, anyway." He waves me off with one of his hands. I grumble silently before getting up and reluctantly heading for the door.

"Are you sure?" I ask hesitantly.

"Of course." I pause, then open the door and leave. I steal one last glance at CR-S01. He is looking up at me, and that's when I notice his face.

Elodie was right. It definitely wasn't bad. I feel myself begin to blush and quickly close the door.

_What in the world is going on with me?_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I examine the box of strawberries carefully, rotating it so that I had a 360 view of it. _Looks good._ I toss it carelessly into my shopping cart and continue through the grocery store.

_Milk, eggs, ramen, strawberries, what else?_ I reach into my pocket and unfold the crumpled groceries list I had scribbled right before I left the house.

Just then, a familiar voice suddenly calls, "Cecilia! Long time no see!"

I look up to see Kestrel standing several yards away, frantically waving his arm in my direction and a huge grin plastered onto his face. I smile widely and stuff the list back inside my pocket before rushing towards him, completely ditching my shopping cart.

"Kestrel! How have you been doing?" I ask cheerily. He shrugs and runs his hand through his ruffled brown hair.

"Nothing much. Life's been the same lately, except for the fact that I barely get to see you anymore." He smiles sheepishly and I feel myself blush. "I'm…really sorry about your dad, and that you had to leave The Music Gallery."

"Thanks," I whisper. That same feeling I get every time I see Kestrel begins to reoccur – my heart beats fast, my stomach ties into knots, and I feel like the happiest girl in the world just being around him.

"You're not completely quitting music though, are you?" he asks, his voice tainted with worry now. I shake my head.

"No, of course not! I'd never quit music if my life depended on it." He smiles in relief. The knot in my stomach tightens.

"Are you going to hold another piano recital soon? Like, as a temporary farewell before you become a doctor and find a cure for your mom?"

I ponder that for a moment. "…That's a pretty good idea. I haven't thought about it before, but I probably will hold one. Thanks."

His smile widens. "Awesome! I'm going to be sitting in the very front row, clapping the loudest," he exclaims, patting me on the shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock to me. I laugh and pretend not to be completely melting down on the inside.

"So what are you doing here?" I ask curiously. Kestrel definitely wasn't the type of guy someone could trust to go grocery shopping alone.

"I was in the mood for some soda, so I ran here to grab some," he reports frankly. I try not to snort at his straightforwardness. "What about you?"

"Oh, I came to shop for some stuff we needed." I glance back at my shopping cart. It sat the way I had left it, untouched.

"I see." He grins. "Do you want me to help?"

"Uh, if you want, but I mean, if you're busy then you don't have to…"

"Of course I'd want to! Come on, let's go," he walks past me towards my cart. I quickly run after him.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything before I cam here anyway," he says lightheartedly. I smile.

"Alright then." I reach into my pocket and pull out my shopping list. "I just need to get… ground beef, lettuce, carrots, butter, and pecans."

"That's it?" Disappointment flashes in Kestrel's eyes. "Okay then." He takes the handles of the shopping cart and heads towards the produce section, walking slowly as if taking his time. I fold the paper and follow him.

"Hey, I think one of the songs you perform in your recital should be Scherzo No. 2 Op. 31 by Chopin. Remember that piece? It was the first thing I heard you play during your concert as an 8th grader, where we first met."

I don't know what to say at first. _Is he implying something?_ Scherzo No. 2 was probably my most favorite piano piece out of many. It was a mixture of happiness, sorrow, tranquility, and anger, and varied from beautiful, emotional areas that required great control to fierce sections demanding exceptional technique. That piece was one of the few that I had truly mastered and interpreted, and could sincerely feel the music when I played it.

"Yes, of course! But I'll probably save it for last. I'm also planning on playing Scherzo No. 1, La Campanella, Fantasie Impromptu, and one or two other Liszt or Rachmaninoff pieces."

Kestrel whistles. "Wow, sounds nice. Those are tough pieces. It's amazing how you're able to play all of them so well." He grins down at me. I smile back shyly.

"Thanks. You're a wonderful saxophonist as well."

"Heh." He brushes his brown locks out of his eyes again. My heart swells with affection. He looks _so_ cute when he does that. "Oh, here are the carrots."

We stop and look at the shelf stocked with bags of regular and baby carrots. I sift through them before finally finding one that I liked and placing it inside the cart.

"What's next?" Kestrel asks.

"Lettuce." I walk over to the lettuce shelf and place the healthiest looking one in a plastic bag. Kestrel watches me silently. I suddenly become extremely self-conscious.

Soon we are done with our shopping and walking outside towards my car. It is in a secluded area of the parking lot, and no one else seems to be around. I unlock it, open the trunk, and begin to load the groceries inside. When I slam it shut and look up at Kestrel, I suddenly find myself unable to break away.

His striking green eyes bore into mine. They are intent, the usual playful glimmer inside them not visible. He steps closer and gently places a hand on my shoulder. I catch my breath.

A wave of powerful silence passes through us.

Finally, he breathes, "Cecilia…" His voice is quiet and serious. "…I can't hide it anymore. And I can't stand to be away from you for so long. I love you… I always have, and I always will. Please, will you be mine?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

When I don't reply, Kestrel frantically adds in, "I-I know this isn't the most romantic place ever, but… i-if you don't, you know, feel that way for me, or if you're not ready or something, I… I don't know. I won't mind." He smiles weakly.

I don't know what to say at first, even though the answer is obvious to me. _What are you doing? Move!_ My body doesn't respond. It's as if my brain's been disconnected from the rest of me. Kestrel waits silently, the air around us tense.

At last I am able to stop acting like a complete retard. "…Oh… wow, that came so… suddenly." _What the heck was that?_ The worry in Kestrel's expression doesn't go away.

"Yeah, I'm… sorry about that," he stammers.

I shake my head to clear the jumbled thoughts inside my head. "Well, of course I'll go out with you…! I… I've loved you since the day we met." My face goes red when I say that. Kestrel's eyes widen.

"Woah, seriously? Same here!" his grin widens, and in the next second he's embracing me with an enormous huge.

"When shall our first date be, love?" he asks, his voice muffled with his lips pressed against my hair.

My heart beats a million miles per hour. I find it hard to breathe, and it's not just because I'm being crushed against Kestrel's chest.

"Doesn't matter for me, as long as it's soon," I reply against his t-shirt. I can feel the thump of his heart – it matches the speed of mine.

"M'kay, how about this Friday afternoon? The park?" I nod and I can hear the smile in his breathing as he pulls my closer. I close my eyes and lean against him, treasuring the moment.

_I can't believe this is happening. This must be a wonderful, wonderful dream. I must be the luckiest girl in the world._

We stay like that for a minute or two, but to me it feels like several hours. I could've stayed like that forever. Kestrel probably felt the same way too, because when we pulled away he did so as reluctantly as I did.

"I think I should go now." He murmurs, his face so close to mine I can feel his breath. I die a little on the inside but nod my head.

"Same here. My family's going to get worried."

"See you Friday?"

"Yea, definitely." We hug each other quickly, tightly, before bidding our good-byes and parting ways.

My heart leaps out of my chest as I get into the driver's seat and turn up the engine. My hands shake when I take the wheel, and I breathe deeply, trying to calm my nerves. I slowly back out of my parking place and drive out into the road. I don't spot Kestrel anywhere anymore. It had only been one minute, and I miss him already.

When I don't concentrate completely on driving, my mind wanders to Kestrel. Had he really loved me ever since I started loving him? If only we'd known that earlier, then we could've been together so much more. I sigh dreamily, then suddenly realize I am about to pass a red light and stomp on the brakes. My car comes to a squealing stop. I exhale in relief and force myself to focus on driving.

I get home to find Landon and Lark napping and Mom reading a book. At first I act as if everything is fine. After several minutes of reassuring myself and planning out what I am about to say, I approach my mom and tell her about my new relationship with Kestrel.

She sets down her book and gives me a weird look. An awkward silence settles between us. I shuffle my feet nervously when she finally says in an alarmingly calm voice, "Kestrel, hm? The boy you worked with at The Music Gallery? What's his last name?"

I blink. That was not the reply I had expected. "Um, his last name? It's Slater."

"Slater…" she trails off for a second. "Cecilia Slater. Doesn't sound bad."

"Wait, what?" I snap, totally caught off guard. "I'm not going to marry him! He just asked me out today!"

Mom shrugs, a sly smile on her face. "You never know. When's your first date?"

"…This Friday, at the park."

"Okay. Hope you have fun. The first dates are always the most awkward – the rest are going to get better, trust me. Just hold on."

I grin widely and give her a huge hug. "Thank you! You're the best."

She pats my back. "You too, Honey."

I give her a peck on the cheek and skip to my bedroom. Once inside, I do a victory prance around my room, humming merrily as I quickly change into more comfortable clothes. When I finish, I lean back and check my e-mail, feeling at ease and pleasant.

My eyes notice the e-mail from a while ago, informing me of my volunteering status at Resurgam. I immediately think of CR-SO1, and something strange stirs inside my mind. Had I hoped to become friends with that surgeon, and maybe more? I shake my head and groan. _No, you and Kestrel were meant to be. There's nothing between you and CR-SO1. You barely know him!_ Yet I can't help but wonder what it would be like if he and I are together. I cringe and force the thought out of my head. _Quit doubting yourself. You and Kestrel are perfect. There's nothing better you could ask for, right?_

I finish reading through my new mail, then turn off my laptop and go back downstairs to get something to eat. After all that had happened today, even if it is just one (big) thing, I feel drained of energy.

I open the fridge and look through the snacks. There is ice cream, frozen cookie dough, and fruit. Not in the mood for anything cold or sweet, I close the fridge and end up grabbing a pack of Ritz crackers from the closet. I sit down at my favorite couch and open the book I'm reading.

_Friday, huh? Only two days away. Hopefully things will go well._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Today is the big day. I stand in front of the mirror and examine my outfit, wondering if Kestrel would think I looked good in pale red. It seemed to go well with my gray eyes and black hair. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, then turn and head for the front door.

"I'll be going now!" I call, placing my hand on the knob. Mom pokes her head out from the kitchen.

"Have fun, honey." She winks at me and I roll my eyes and smile before leaving my home.

I get into my car, my heart already beginning to beat faster, and back out of the driveway and onto the road. This will be the first date I've had in a long time – since my junior year in high school, actually. I couldn't remember what it was like, no matter how hard I tried. _Hopefully this one will be better, though. Nobody out there is anything like Kestrel._

I reach the park in a few minutes. Kestrel is already there, waiting for me beneath a large oak. He spots my car pull into the parking lot and walks towards me, a huge grin on his face. I whisper a few calming words to myself and turn off the car as he pulls the door open for me.

"Hey there, love," he greets, stepping aside to give me room. I get out of my car and face him, my eyes shining.

"Hi Kestrel. It's been a while." I close the door and throw my arms around him. He staggers back, not quite ready for the sudden impact, but then hugs me as well.

I feel his warm arms press against my back as he mutters, "A while, huh? It's only been two days, but it felt like two years to me. I missed you, too."

I tilt my chin up to look into his green eyes and smile. He beams back and takes my hand before leading me to a path winding throughout the entire park. Only a few people are around – some joggers here, some adults walking their dog there. _Perfect._ Kestrel and I begin to saunter down the path together, our hands still linked and our steps matching each other's perfectly.

"How have you been since we were separated?" he asks casually. I can't help but laugh lightly at his playful tone.

"I don't know, same old, I guess. What about you?"

"Same here. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind lately." I scoff sheepishly and he tugs me closer.

We walk along in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the peace and quiet. Birds sing their morning songs and the air smells like dew and freshly-cut grass. I take in a deep breath and sigh dreamily. Kestrel glances down at me the same time I look up at him, and I see something in his eyes I've never seen before. Is it love? They look content, happy, affectionate. Maybe it is. I take his arm with my other hand so that we are even closer, treasuring the moment.

The silence isn't awkward. It's as if we both need it, or are comfortable with it. Whatever the reason, I am fine with it. Neither of us are the talkative type. Maybe he preferred this type of quiet as well? Either way, I love it. I love him. My heart seems to swell and I smile a small smile.

Suddenly, Kestrel asks, "Is your mother okay with your relationship?"

The question catches me by surprise. "What? Oh, yeah, of course she is. Yours?"

He shrugs. "She's kind of edgy about the fact that I'm dating someone in college, but otherwise she's fine with it. She really likes you, you know."

I smile. "That's good. My mom likes you as well." He chuckles.

"I don't believe we've been able to get to know each other that much, though."

"We as in you and me, or you and my mother?"

"…I was more focused on you and your mom, but I suppose that also refers to you and me."

I don't say anything. He continues, "So, I know the basic stuff. Your favorite color is gray, favorite animals are songbirds, food is sushi, Korean barbecue, that kind of stuff, sport is tennis, and yeah…"

"And your favorite color is green, animal is fox, food is the same as mine, and sport is basketball." He nods and we both laugh.

"That's just the basic stuff, though. I'm more curious about, you know, the _deeper_ stuff."

_Deeper stuff?_ "Like what?"

"Like… what is it about music you love?"

"Oh." One of the few topics that caught my interest and kept me talking was music. "Well, I really love how music can do so much to you – it can make you happy, sad, mad, or excited. Music could settle a whole room of angry people, or rouse several calm people at once. And you can also do so much with music. You can write it, you can create it, you can play it, sing it, dance to it. There's music in everything and anything, isn't there? Without music, what kind of world would this be?"

Kestrel ponders my words for a second. "Wow, that's… deep. But I agree with you. Music has a huge effect on us. But why is it? What is it in music that makes us mad or sad?"

"Maybe it's the loud and the soft, the violent and the gentle? Those represent how we feel when we feel like that ourselves."

"Yeah it is. But it's so weird yet wonderful, how music is able to do that kind of stuff. I'm still extremely curious about it. And what exactly one does to play music that everyone will love."

"I wonder about that too, if there's some secret out there that will make me one of the best players in the world. But I think it's just the way you express your music and how much heart you put into it. I mean, watching someone sitting extremely straight and stiff while they're playing something absolutely beautiful makes it sound completely different as compared to someone expressing their music through their body, right?"

"Yeah. I've seen people play like that before. They look like dead fish in water. The music never seems quite complete with people like that, no matter how good they play. It's like they're lacking something." I giggle. Kestrel and I have so much in common.

We continue to talk about random topics, from music to medicine to school and friends. After two or so more hours of just walking around on the path, we come to a stop in a quiet, secluded area of the park beneath the shadow of an aspen. We sit together on a bench. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and I rest my head against his. We stay like that for several minutes, watching the ducks float and play in the sparkling lake before us.

"Cecilia?" Kestrel asks.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

I grin. "I love you too, Kestrel."

I want to kiss him. And I know he wants to, too. But neither of us are ready – I can tell. The day passes by – and then my stomach growls. Loudly.

My cheeks go red and I groan silently. Why now? Kestrel laughs and gets to his feet, offering a hand to me. I take it and he helps pull me up from the bench.

"I see you're hungry. Where do you want to go?"

I'm so flustered by the embarrassment caused from my stomach that I can't think straight. "Huh?"

He snickers again. "Where do you want to eat?" he repeats.

I mentally beat myself up before replying, "Um, I don't care, wherever you want to go."

He rolls his eyes. "That's why I'm asking you, smart one." His arms come around me in a gentle hug. I lean against his chest and close my eyes.

"Mmm, I don't know. I'm not in the mood for a burger or anything."

"Then what _are_ you in the mood for?"

"…Chinese." Kestrel smiles and takes my hand before leading me to his car. We pile in and leave the park.

"We're coming back later for my car, right?" I ask.

Kestrel chuckles. "Yeah, of course. Panda Express?"

"Sure." I buckle my seatbelt just as he drives out onto the road.

We soon arrive at Panda Express. The lady at the counter asks for our orders. We tell her, grab our food, and find a seat next to the wall.

As we eat, we talk about our future. Like what we want to be when we graduate, stuff like that. Neither of us brings up marriage or anything of that kind, though. I don't know about Kestrel, but I'm kind of scared of it, too.

Finally, we finish our food and head back to the park. When we arrive, we get out of the car and stand on the sidewalk, holding hands and facing each other with sad expressions.

"I guess this is good bye, then," Kestrel sighs, tucking a stray strand of hair back into place.

"Yeah. I'll see you soon?"

"Definitely. Very soon."

I smile up at him and am about to turn around and leave when a crazy idea pops into my head. It is hard not to hesitate or change my mind, but I quickly turn back to him, stand on my toes, and kiss him on the lips before dashing back to my car. When I get inside and look at him, his face is surprised and red, one hand over his mouth. I grin and stick my tongue out at him before waving good-bye and backing out of my parking place. He snaps back to his senses and slowly waves back, a smile forming on his face. I giggle to myself as I drive back home, wondering how in the world I was able to pull off something like that on my first date.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Deliver these items to the room numbers written on their tags as quickly as possible. When you're done, come back for more." CR-SO1 dumps a truckload of flower bouquets and small wrapped presents onto my arms. I observe the objects and groan. He smiles skeptically.

"Don't worry, it goes by a lot faster than it seems. Now get a move on." He pushes me through his office door and closes it behind me. I gape at the wooden frame for a second, then mumble under my breath as I walk down the hall, careful not to spill any of the contents I carry.

When I am finally finish delivering all of the presents to each patient, my arms feel like they are about ready to fall off. I enter CR-SO1's office again. He is sitting behind his desk, filling out some paperwork. He glances up at me for one second before going back to his business. I step forward cautiously, not quite familiar with what to do yet.

"All done?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Okay. You're next task is to…" He sets down his pen and looks at me with thoughtful eyes. "I haven't run my rounds yet. I suppose you can go do those next. Hold on." He reaches into a cabinet in his desk and hands me several stapled pages. I flip through them to find that they are all charts about his patients.

"You think you can do it?" he asks.

"Of course. See you, then." I quickly leave the room, scanning the paper on the top of the pile. My first patient is named Alex Tanner. I tuck the papers under my arm and head for her room number.

I soon arrive in her unit. When I open her door, I spot a young girl with long wavy brown hair and brown eyes. Her expression is blank and unsmiling as I enter the room.

"Hello. Are you Ms. Tanner?" I ask in a polite tone.

"How many other Tanners are there around here?" she asks, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She eyes the papers in my arm. "Who are you?"

_Sheesh, talk about stingy._ "I'm Cecilia Navarre, a volunteer working under Dr. CR-SO1. He's busy right now, so I'm running his rounds for him. Are you feeling okay?"

"You're a volunteer? Why the hell are you doing rounds, then?"

I give her a strange look. Was this woman usually this rash? "I've received medical training before, and I know what I'm doing and supposed to do. Now how are you feeling?"

She pauses for a moment. "Fine, I guess. I've been recovering well." I nod and look at the charts again. _Check heart, breathing, ears, mouth, and incision._ I take the stethoscope hanging around my name and place the eartips into my ears.

"Breathe in and out," I instruct, pressing the diaphragm against her chest. She does so. I listen intently. Nothing seems wrong.

I proceed to check the rest of the things listed. When I am done, I announce to her, "Your discharge is planned for this Friday."

This seems to catch her attention. "This Friday? Sweet." A small smile spreads across her face. I chuckle and bid her good-bye before leaving for my next patient. I check the papers just to make sure. _Jae Park. Someone Korean?_

I enter her room just a few doors down the hall. A small and cute Asian girl with straight and dark shoulder-length hair lies down on a bed, her eyes closed. They open to reveal brown irises as she hears me come in.

"Jae Park?" I ask. She nods and smiles politely. I approach her bedside and go through the regular routine. Jae is more well-mannered than Alex, but there is still a sense of aggressiveness in her body language – it is as if she is willing to hurt me if she has to. I wince and talk with her a bit about her discharge from the hospital before quickly making my way out of the room. _What is up with these patients lately? They're so… strange._

When I am finally done with CR-SO1's rounds, I drag my feet into his office, reluctant to do anymore work. And to lift my spirits even more, I find the room empty.

"What. The. Hell." I groan and collapse onto a chair near his desk when I notice a piece of paper folded up next to me. I pick it up curiously and read it.

_Sorry. It's another emergency operation. When you get back, you can go home. Sincerely, CR-SO1._

I can't help but smile as my eyes unfold the handwriting. _That's thoughtful of him._ I collect all of my belongings, making sure everything is with me, and then walk briskly out of the hospital.

The fresh air tastes good as I step outside. I take a deep breathe and exhale loudly, glad to be free at last. The sky seems to be nearing dusk; I check my watch to see what time it is. "5:30. Perfect." Kestrel and I had planned another date for 6:30 tonight at Mimi's Café, a large French restaurant.

_There's still an hour left, though. Maybe I should stop by Starbucks first._ I sigh and saunter towards my car, soaking in the hospital's surreal surroundings for the first time since I started volunteering here. The trees are full and bright, swaying rhythmically against the whispering breeze, and a complete view of a distant mountain is visible just over the top of a low-hanging willow tree growing on the lip of a small stream.

I stand next to the driver's seat and am about to open the door when something loud and abnormal rustles in the bushes nearby. My heart seems to stop and I instantly freeze, my head snapping towards the source of the noise. I stare intently at the area for one, long minute. Nothing happens. I slowly turn back towards my car, and suddenly a bright flash goes off from the same direction the rustling came from. I run towards the area and the ferns shake violently. Faint footsteps sound in the distance, as if someone is running away. I slow to a stop and glare at the forest. "Who's there? Come out! Who are you?" I yell at the top of my lungs into the empty darkness. Silence.

Grumbling in frustration, I walk back to my car, feeling slightly more paranoid. _Was that a stalker? Did he just take a picture of me?_ I shiver and try to shake the thought away, but I can't help but let my eyes dart around as I turn up the engine and back out onto the road.

All other trains of thought lost, I head towards Starbucks. Too frightened to wait outside, I get out of the car, walk through the front door, and tell the man at the counter my order. Once he is done, I sit down at one of the tables and take a sip of my latte. My mind buzzes with what had just happened when I hear a familiar voice several feet away.

"So when will be the next time I'll see you?" it asks.

An unrecognizable, feminine voice replies, "Tomorrow?"

"Sure, baby. See you then."

I look up and cannot believe the sight before me.

Kestrel stands nearby, an arm wrapped around a slender and beautiful blonde woman. We meet eyes and a devastated expression falls over his face. The blonde lady notices and looks my way as well, confused.

I get to my feet and tighten my lips. Kestrel breaks away from the woman and takes a step towards me. I take a step back.

"Cecilia, I can explain…" He trails off as the woman grabs his hand and pulls him towards her, her eyebrows furrowing.

It takes me a moment before I can find my voice. And when I do, it comes out like I am spitting fire. "What the hell, Kestrel? What the _hell_?"

"Cecilia!" Kestrel dashes forward and I swivel around and sprint for my car. He is hot on my heels, his strides much longer and easier than mine. Right when my palm is wrapped over the handle of my car, his hand finds my arm. I whip it away and slap him. He stands there, stunned.

"Cecilia, I… I…" He is lost for words and his eyes are helpless. I suddenly realize there are tears streaking down my cheeks.

"I thought… I thought you were good! I thought you were nice and helpful and… everything! But it turns out you're just another one of those _players_!" I spit out the last word. He doesn't move as I throw open my car door, stomp inside, and loudly back out of my parking space. His blonde girlfriend stands at the door, looking lost and hurt. Our eyes meet. I shake my head in disgust before driving quickly out of there.

My heart beats fast and tears continue to stream down my cheeks in an endless shower. The hiccups interrupting my staggering breaths make it extremely difficult for me to drive. I go to the first and closest place I can think of – Resurgam First Care.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

I screech my car to a halt once I reach Resurgam and stumble out of the driver's seat, anguish and sorrow burning out the last of the rage that had once been enflaming my heart. My knees collapse underneath me and I sprawl out on the blacktop, my head leaning against the exterior of my car as I let the sobs take over my body. After several minutes pass by, I realize that I can't stay there forever without somebody noticing, so I shakily rise to my feet and stagger towards Resurgam.

When I near the front door, I see my reflection in the glass, and abruptly veer off to the side. My eyes are red and swollen beyond recognition, and there is such grief on my face that I can't bear even looking at my own reflection. So instead, I totter around to the back of the hospital, where there is much less activity, and curl up against a corner formed by a wall and a side of the building.

A cold gust passes through me and I shiver as my stomach abruptly growls with hunger. I pull out the cell phone in my pocket and notice ten missed calls and fifteen new texts from Kestrel. Scowling, I ignore them and check the time. _6:30. I'm supposed to be at Mimi's right now._ I feel the tears returning, and I let out a soft, strangled sob as I throw my phone at the soft ground beneath me and bury my head in my arms.

After a long time of just sitting there, I begin to hear footsteps in the distance and I immediately freeze, my sobs dying down to nothing in a matter of seconds. Ideas of who it could be pop up one by one in my mind. _Kestrel? Some kidnapper who heard me crying? The stalker dude who took pictures of me earlier? Oh God, why couldn't I have been quieter? I'm such a crybaby!_ The footsteps draw nearer and I squeeze my burning eyes closed, preparing for the worst.

"…Cecilia?" The voice is familiar. Too familiar. My heart skips a beat. _No, not him… Please, anybody but _him_…_ The person stops before me, picks up my phone, and then kneels down. I feel a hand gently take my cheek and lift my face up.

For a heartbeat, all I can see are red irises.

"Cecilia! What are you doin– are you _crying_?" CR-S01 exclaims, his expression concerned and confused. I pull away and duck my head down again, not daring to look at him. No matter how hard I try to hold them back, my tears begin to come again.

I sense CR-S01 beginning to struggle, not quite sure what to do. "Sheesh, why did I get myself into this kind of situation...? " I hear him mutter exasperatedly to himself before he turns back to me and awkwardly says, "Cecilia… don't cry, okay? You've already been through a lot of pain, and even more grieving won't do you any good." When my sobs don't subside, he sighs and continues, "Why are you crying? Maybe telling someone will help."

My eyes glance up at him, but only for the briefest moment. I shake my head. "I can't," I whisper, my voice muffled. _You'll think I'm a child._

CR-S01 hesitates, but then exhales. "Well… that's understandable. Let's at least get you home, okay?" He places his hand on my arm to help me up. It's surprisingly warm. I abruptly withdraw in shock, but I immediately regret it when I see him blink at me before standing up straight. "Sorry," he murmurs, glancing away. I want to say something, but my lips wouldn't budge. So instead, I attempt to get up by myself, only to have my knees buckle underneath the weight. I let out a groan of pain from my embarrassing collapse. CR-S01 remains indifferent as he takes my hand and pulls me up.

"Did you drive here?" he asks as we walk back to the front of the hospital.

"Yes." My voice is weaker and shakier than I had anticipated.

"Can you show me where your car is?" His voice is gentler than before. I glance up at him and notice he is looking at me. His gaze is soft and seems to burn into my eyes. It's exactly like how Kestrel used to look at me whenever we were together. Holding back the rush of tears that threaten to break through again, I nod and point to a black Lexus – my father's old car.

"Ah." He seems to recognize it, but doesn't say anything as he and I make our way through the parking lot. "I'll take you home. You don't look like you're in any shape to drive right now." I nod and hand him my car keys before crawling into the passenger's seat.

CR-S01 pushes the "Go Home" button on the car's GPS, and then starts up the engine and backs out of the parking lots. I stare out the window, my eyes lifeless and my arms hugging my knees. In the reflection of the glass window, I occasionally spot him glancing at me with a concerned look on his face. The entire ride there is silent, but I'm grateful for it. Obviously, I wasn't in the mood to have a pleasant conversation.

When we finally pull up into my driveway, I notice for the first time how dark it is outside. We both get out of the car at the same time. I walk over to stand next to him.

"Thank you," I whisper, looking him in the eyes. A genuine smile finds its way to my lips. "For everything."

CR-S01 looks at me with a slightly taken aback look, but then glances off to the side while muttering a sheepish, "It was nothing." Underneath the moonlight, I can see his cheeks blush a little, and I stifle a laugh at how cute it looked.

A thought suddenly strikes me. "How are you going to get home?" I ask. "You can't possibly walk all the way back. It'll be midnight by the time you get there."

He shrugs. "I'll take a bus or something. It won't be a problem." He looks down at me again, and I see the faintest hint of a sad smile flicker across his face. "I should be leaving now. See you tomorrow?"

I stare at him, dumbfounded, before snapping back to my senses and laughing awkwardly. "Yeah, see you." I wave good-bye and watch him walk off until he is swallowed by darkness.

That night, I lay in my bed, unable to sleep. All I can do is think about what had happened today. Whenever I close my eyes, I would be taken back to the events that had occurred. Whenever my mind crosses Kestrel, I would cringe, but when I am reminded of CR-S01, I would immediately relax. Why is that? Just this morning, I was head over heels for Kestrel, but now just the thought of him makes me have the urge to tear something apart. Am I that able to hate him? Could I get over love so easily? _Was it even love in the first place?_

And then my thoughts drift to CR-S01. I close my eyes and relive the way he had so awkwardly tried to comfort me. It was apparent that he didn't have very much experience in that sort of thing, but the fact that he had still tried, that he _cared_, made my heart flutter. And then the warmth of his touch, the way he had blushed when I'd thanked him… I couldn't take it anymore.

"Godammit!" I cry, abruptly sitting up in bed. "What the hell is going on with me?" My hair is a nice replica of a bird's nest and my nightgown is tussled, but I can't care less. Who was going to see me, anyway? I slip out of bed and check the time – 3 a.m. – before tip-toeing from my bedroom to the music room.

When I close the door to the music room behind me, I let out a melodramatic sigh of relief. The walls were sound-proof, which my parents had installed after several incidents of being woken up in the middle of the night from my practicing. I sit in front of the grand piano and uncover it, smiling at its polished black wood and glossy keys. Whenever I was upset like this, I would always come to the piano and play a few pieces to ease my mind.

I set my fingers carefully on top of the keys and began to play whatever they willed to play. Surprisingly, I find myself playing my favorite Chopin nocturne – Opus 9 No. 2 in E flat. It is a slow, beautiful piece of music, and had nearly brought tears to my eyes when I'd first heard it. _Fits my mood perfectly, huh?_

At first, I force myself to really focus on what I am playing, but as I near the middle of the piece, my mind begins to drift off, as it usually does. I see myself playing on a stage, my final performance… and I am suddenly reminded of Kestrel's words. _I'm going to be sitting in the very front row, clapping the loudest._ I abruptly stop playing and stand up, scooting the piano bench several feet away from me as I do so. _Cecilia… I can't hide it anymore. And I can't stand to be away from you for so long. I love you… I always have, and I always will._ My hands clench into fists and I feel the familiar sensation of tears burning in the back of my eyes. "Everything you said… they were lies, weren't they?" I hiss, feeling myself beginning to shake. Caught up in my anger and hurt, I cover the piano back up and return to my bedroom, where I throw myself on my bed and beat my pillow against the mattress, envisioning it as Kestrel's face with every punch.

When all of the anger I could ever muster is taken out, I am left exhausted and lost, not feeling any better than I had before. I cave in and crumple on top of my sheets, not bothering to pull them over me. Tears stain my cheeks and leave my eyes sore and puffy, but no fresh ones are reproduced. _Do I not have any more tears left to shed?_ I wonder as I close my eyes with a sigh. I imagine CR-S01 next to me, comforting me, telling me it will all work out in the end. And to my ultimate surprise, I find myself smiling.

Right before I fall asleep, one last question lingers in my thoughts.

_What's wrong with me?_


End file.
